


Comfort, Rather Than a Fix-It Episode

by virchude



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Character Background Spoilers, Depression, Derealization, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Executive Dysfunction, Hurt/Comfort, Intrusive Thoughts, Mental Health Issues, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Saihara Shuichi-centric, Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, light spoilers, saihara shuichi steals his friends clothes, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28576989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virchude/pseuds/virchude
Summary: Shuichi tries to be subtle, when he's dissociating. He doesn't like to worry his friends, so he plays it off like he's fine, whenever he can. However, some of his friends are just too perceptive. (No they're not, he's just terrible at being subtle.)Ryoma is the first one who seems to notice, one day, that Shuichi is definitely Not Okay.  So he takes charge, and takes Shuichi out of all of his problems for a  while. He understands. And it works.Ryoma then helps Shuichi lessen one of his problems, and sits with him as nothing gets better.Side plot: Kaede tries to explain to Kaito what dissociation is, which results in him having a self-discovery that he didn't want to have.
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede & Momota Kaito, Akamatsu Kaede & Saihara Shuichi, Harukawa Maki & Momota Kaito, Harukawa Maki & Saihara Shuichi, Hoshi Ryoma & Saihara Shuichi, Momota Kaito & Saihara Shuichi, Saihara Shuichi & Tojo Kirumi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50





	Comfort, Rather Than a Fix-It Episode

**Author's Note:**

> Please keep in mind, before reading, and during, that Shuichi spills his intrusive thoughts and depressive mental ramblings, which may trigger yours, if you have those. 
> 
> There are also somewhat descriptive paragraphs about dissociation, so if you dissociate please keep that in mind as well. I literally made myself dissociate while writing this.
> 
> He talks about murder (not gruesome, just hypotheticals) and abandonment (which is somewhat vague), so be somewhat weary if these are triggers (or the like) for you.

Shuichi rolled over in his bed, and cringed at a disgusting waft of _smell_. He rolled back over. The book he was cradling ached at the corners from how he handled it, roughly flipping pages when he wasn’t even finished yet, covers of the paperback developing awkward dog-ears from being pushed into his pillow.

The smell of old tea followed Shuichi to the other side of his bed. He sat up with a distressed grunt, closing the book without saving the page. The dark blanket he was under reflected his mindset perfectly. He kicked it off, and moved to get off his bed. As his foot made contact with the floor, we winced, and brought it back up.

Okay so that wasn’t the floor. Shuichi looked down, to see a push-pin where his foot just was. Hm. That was from when he ripped down his evidence board last week. It’s not like he was making any progress anyways. That case was passed to his Uncle, to the man’s slight annoyance. 

Shuichi made a mental note to not step there, and got up once more. He trudged over to the chair in his room, nearly collapsing into it, and pulled the thin blanket resting on the floor over himself. He was kind of cold. He _could_ get up and turn the heater on… But he just sat down. He’ll do it in a few minutes.

Shuichi looked around his room for a brief moment, for something to do. All he could really see was mess. Dirty clothes littered the floor; when was the last time he did laundry? The fact that he can’t remember is concerning. His eyes landed for a split second on the old basket of “clean” laundry by the door to his bathroom. 

He should fold that. He doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t. 

He sniffles slightly, and wipes his dry nose on the edge of the blanket. It smells musty. Gross. How long has it been since he washed this one..? He doesn’t think about it. He continues looking around for something to do, despite knowing that he’s not getting up.

All he can see now is dirty dishes, piled _everywhere_. He can’t even see the abandoned work on his desk anymore. Half-full bowls and plates liter every table top. The fruit flies are barely visible as they fly around, and Shuichi swats at one with a frown.

He should get these out before Toujo-san decides to clean his room without his permission again. He doesn’t want to get lectured about it. He doesn’t want to take the dishes to the kitchen, so he doesn’t. The moldy cups of tea on his shelves are just as bad, especially the Earl Grey. A few of them smell fermented. Shuichi’s been avoiding looking in them for a few weeks now. He doesn’t want to gag on the sight and smell of them for the nth time.

Shuichi sighs, and rubs his tired eyes. He thinks about leaving his room for a moment, but then decides not to. If he goes literally anywhere all he’s going to get is pitying looks and concerned voices from his classmates, random students he doesn’t know, as well. He decides that the smell is manageable. At least his body doesn’t smell?

Shuichi decided that he’s doing well, because of that. He can keep himself clean, for the most part, so he can’t be doing _that_ bad. Of course, he hasn’t brushed his teeth in a few days, but that’s besides the point. No one says anything, he obsessively chews enough gum to balance out that problem. Or that’s what he tells himself. 

Looking at the clock on his end table, he sees that it’s almost dinner time. Toujo-san and Akamatsu-san will come get him if he doesn’t go.

The detective stands with an internal groan, his knees and back aching in a way that they shouldn’t be at the age of sixteen. Maybe he should exercise with Momota-kun more often. He doesn’t want to, and he knows he won’t.

The way he zones out on the way to the dining hall borders on dissociation, as his thoughts become more and more blurry, more and more incoherent. His head starts feeling more and more muddy, and he notices. His eyes tear up slightly as he dodges classmates and peers, nearly trampling Hoshi-kun on the way.

A quiet apology makes its way out of his throat, and he makes to continue walking, but a small hand stops him. He turns back around and sees Ryoma staring up at him with a small amount of concern in his eyes.

“Hey, are you alright, Saihara?” Shuichi holds back a quiver at the deepness of his voice. He’s always found it soothing. He nods absently, not able to work out any words, let alone any sort of eye contact. Ryoma frowns, and his eyebrows furrow. He doesn’t believe him.

“Humm, uhh,” Shuichi blinks a few times and tries to come fully into himself again, but can’t. His brows furrow as well, and he tries to speak again. “Sorry. Again.” The words are a whisper, and he knows that Hoshi-kun doesn’t believe him. 

Shuichi gently tugs his wrist from Ryoma’s hold, and turns around to continue walking. As he continues to the dining hall, his hands clench and release repetitively, but he doesn’t notice. Crime scenes, he thinks, duly, and he sees blood. A few vague body-shapes, and _eyes_ , oh he sees eyes.

He shakes his head, erasing the thoughts like an etch-a-sketch. They just come right back, and Shuichi just sighs. 

He makes a wrong turn a few moments later, and he growls, immediately turning around and going in the other direction. Maybe he _should_ go to his lab and try to get some work done. He doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t. He’ll just end up crying into reports anyways.

He zones out even more, and comes back to, just slightly, as he enters the dining hall and hears Akamatsu-san gently call for him. He sits next to her, and she slides over a plate of food she had already gathered for him. Akamatsu-san is too nice to him. Apparently he said this out loud.

“It’s honestly no problem, Saihara-kun! I like doing things for you, and I know how overwhelmed you can get when everyone swarms the table.” She smiles so sweetly it makes Shuichi feel sick. She’s always so gentle… Sometimes too gentle and sweet and just. Hm. Sometimes Shuichi wishes his mother was still around. But he doesn’t truly miss her.

Should he feel bad for not missing her? It’s not like she ever did anything for him. Sure, and occasional money was nice on holidays, but she feels like a distant relative. Maybe he should give her a break, she is a celebrity, after all. It’s not like she had a choice, choosing her career over her son. But other celebrities balance those things perfectly.

He’s shaken out of his thoughts (oh wait, he can think coherently again), and is greeted by a concerned Kaede next to him, a concerned Kaito sitting across from him, and a concerned Kirumi standing next to Kaede. He doesn’t like that. They’re judging him. He knows how much they hate taking care of him. No matter how much they say they don’t mind. He picks up the plate, and the fork that was next to it.

“I’m going to, uhm, go eat in my lab. I still have some cases, to work on.” Akamatsu-san and Momota-kun look disappointed. Harukawa-san looks confused, just joining the table as he starts to walk away. He nods his head at her and tries to smile, but he distantly thinks that he might’ve grimaced. Oops.

As he walks, he avoids eye contact with everyone and everything, desperately wishing he had his hat. Shuichi distantly realizes that he missed his turn and is now going towards the dorms. Oh well. Might as well add another plate to the collection. Shuichi also thinks about how he should adjust his grip on the plate. He’s basically just holding it with his fingertips. He’s gonna drop it and then he’s going to cry about it until Toujo-san shows up to clean it. People are going to stare at him because he’d be crying about spilled food. So much food, just gone to waste. There are people starving on this planet, Shuichi.

He’s at his dorm room…

Okay so he didn’t drop it. Okay. Whatever. 

Shuichi walks into his room, and moves to sit back on his bed. He then almost immediately gets back up, leaving the plate on the bed. He walks up to his desk, grimacing at the visible mold in the bowl of chicken and rice on top of the closest pile. He grabbed his laptop off his desk chair, and went back to his bed.

As he lifted the screen of his laptop, Shuichi quickly lowered it again as the screen went a bright white as it started up. It was too fucking dark in his room for this bullshit. He squinted as the login screen booted up, grumbling as he lowered the brightness. Shuichi had to retype his password three or four times before he got it right, which just added to the frustration.

After the laptop loaded, he pulled up Netflix, and spent a long five minutes searching for something to watch. He didn’t really want to watch anything at that particular moment, but what else is he supposed to do, other than sit there and wallow in his thoughts?

  
  


At the same time, back in the cafeteria, Kaede, Kaito, Maki, and Kirumi sat around a table, quietly discussing Shuichi. The conversation constantly lulled, only to be pulled back by more concerned input through mouthfuls of food.

“I mean,” Kaede started, “ I don’t even know what to do, anymore. I keep trying- _we_ keep trying to help, but it’s like he doesn’t want us to.” Kaito nods in agreement, along with Kirumi. Maki frowns as her acknowledgment. 

Kaito squawks, and sits up straight in his chair, leaning on his elbows. “Maybe we could find that upperclassman - the Ultimate Therapist? Maybe she could help!” His eyes lit up like he had just had the idea of the century. Maki shook her head and sighed.

“She graduated last year, remember? Gekkogahara was in the 76th class.” Kaito deflated back into his chair, and huffed. Kaede and Kirumi seemed to also do so. That was such a good idea though, they all thought. They all sat in silence once again, only Kaito and Kaede still eating.

Maki abruptly stood, and went to grab her plate, but paused. Her eyes settled on something, and the other three turned to look. Kaede jumped slightly, seeing Ryoma standing just next to her. How did she not see him? She giggled out a small apology.

“Sorry Hoshi-kun, I didn’t see you! What’s up?” She smiled warmly at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She was never too close to Ryoma, and the stress of Shuichi’s mental state stressed her to no end. Kirumi went to stand from her seat, about to offer it to their classmate, but Ryoma stopped her with a hand to her upper arm. He gave her a half smile, and Kirumi stayed.

“I’ll only be here for a minute.” Ryoma bit off the end of his candy cigarette, and swallowed the bit before speaking again. “I just wanted to talk about Saihara.” This got the table’s attention, and they all perked up again. Maki sat back down, as a gesture for Ryoma to continue.

“What, specifically..?” Kaito asked, somewhat suspicious of Ryoma’s sudden presence. Ryoma rolled his eyes, and a wry smile wedged itself onto his face. His hand immediately gravitated towards his hair, running his fingers through the small amount of fluff not covered by his hat.

“I just wanted to let you guys know, that Saihara was acting strange on the way to dinner. I saw him leave, so I’m assuming you noticed.” He paused to suck in a deep breath. He felt like he was sort of rating Shuichi out, by saying what he was about to say. “He bumped into me, and to be honest, he looked so out of it. Dude could barely talk. Honestly, it looked like he was dissociating.”

Kaede snapped her fingers, her eyes simultaneously lighting up in recognition. “That’s right! I completely forgot about that. He told me about his dissociation a few months ago, but I don’t remember much about it…” She looked somewhat sheepish about the admission, but from what she remembered, it made sense, with how Shuichi was acting.

“Hold on, what the hell is ‘dissociating?’ Never heard that one before.” Kaito huffed, slightly disgruntled that Shuichi hadn’t told him. Kaede went to speak, but Ryoma cut her off.

“It’s a symptom of several different mental disorders. The simplest way to explain it is that it’s like glorified zoning out, and you feel super disconnected from the world.” Kirumi gave Ryoma a look that screamed ‘I’m talking to you about this later’, but didn’t say anything. Kaede nodded, and turned back to the table.

“I’m gonna go check on him, see if he needs anything. I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” She then went to stand, but Ryoma stopped her, too. Kaito just looked even more confused than before, but stayed silent.

“I don’t mean to be rude, Akamatsu, but I think I should go, instead. I know you’re worried, but I know how to handle dissociation. Besides, I doubt he wants to be coddled right now…” he cringed at the way he worded the last part, but Kaede nodded, a frown on her face. Ryoma nodded too, before continuing. “I’ll text you guys after I talk to him, alright? How’s “Saihara Secret Support Group” sound for a group chat name?” This caused all four of the students at the table to giggle slightly, easing the air.

Maki nodded, trying to hide her slight smile. “That’s a good idea. Thank you, Hoshi. Please do get back to us. We’re worried.” She puffed her cheeks out slightly, and looked away. Emotions are hard. Everyone around her smiled at her, which only made it worse.

“Will do, Harukawa. I’ll give updates if it takes a while.” A series of nods were exchanged, and a few phone numbers, before Ryoma left. Two phones chimed- Kirumi and Kaito’s, with notifications that they’ve been added to the group chat.

Afterwards, Kirumi bid the three remaining friends goodbye, to get back to her self-imposed maid duties. She took their plates with them, much to their annoyance. Kaito leaned back over the table, and Maki nudged his face with her foot, which was on the table. He shoved her foot with a humored grumble, before speaking.

“So, Akamatsu-san, tell me about this whole ‘dissociating’ thing again?”

  
  


Ryoma huffed slightly as he made his way to the dorms. He distantly remembers Kaede telling him that Shuichi apparently went to his lab, but he doubted it. Call it a hunch, if you will. He rubbed at his eyes as he walked, feeling somewhat distant. He had been just slightly dizzy for most of the week, kind of like his brain was fighting off some heavy dissociation until he couldn't anymore.

Nevermind that, he thought, it’s not time to worry about himself. He may not care about himself, but he’ll keel over and die before he lets any of his friends off the deep end. Ryoma jumped as he found himself suddenly in front of Shuichi's door. He had to hop up a little to hit the doorbell, but he managed.

He sat for a long moment, before ringing it again.

Inside, Shuichi was panicking, just slightly. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and frantically checked his phone (after violating his blanket to get it) and saw that he had several notifications from Akamatsu-san and Momota-kun. He tossed his phone back onto the bed, and shook his head. His eyes focused back onto the screen of his laptop just as the bell rang again.

Netflix was still open, and he still hadn’t decided on anything to watch, nearly half an hour later. His food was also abandoned on the other side of his bed, hardly touched, and cold. The doorbell rang, yet again. His breathing picked up.

I’m in my lab, he thought to himself. “I’m asleep,” he mumbled. He looked at the door, and felt guilty for ignoring whoever’s there. They could honestly just come in, he distantly thought. He didn’t lock the door. Again. It’s fine. But what if someone tried to murder him? That’d make their job easier.

They could just waltz in while Shuichi was sleeping, and just. Kill him. Would he even fight back, if he could? He’d like to think he would. Kick and scream and bite, but he’d lose. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d thank them? He’s not suicidal, he doesn’t think, but he doesn’t like living anymore. Did he ever? One time on a case he and his uncle drove over a really large brick bridge over a river-

Shuichi’s phone chimed, making him jump. His ringer was on? Jesus fuck he’s super out of it. As he reached for it again, his eyes began to tear up. Fuck, he’s such a mess, why is he like this? He wipes at his eyes as he types in his password, and freezes.

It’s a text from Hoshi-kun? 

That’s certainly rare. Is something wrong? (The answer is yes, but not in the way Shuichi immediately assumes.) The text reads “Hey, are you awake? I’m outside.”, and Shuichi panics again. He shoves his laptop away from him and stumbled out of bed, missing the push-pin on the ground by mere centimeters. He hops around his room to the door, avoiding the objects on the floor, stepping solemnly on clothes and odd-feeling patches of carpet.

He sucks in a breath before whipping the door open. He quickly closes it again, just enough so that Shuichi barely fits in the open space. He doesn’t want Hoshi-kun to see how messy it is. 

“Hey, Saihara. Sorry to bother you. Were you sleeping?” Hoshi-kun asks, a calm and usual expression on his face. He looks tired. When is Hoshi-kun not tired? Shuichi nods, and then shakes his head. Oops. He huffs out a fakely-amused breath.

“Sorry, no I wasn’t. I was just, uhm, watching Netflix.” Shuichi decided to let the comment about bothering him slide. He didn’t have the mental energy to fight Hoshi-kun on it, and the other could probably tell. “Did you, uh, need something..?” Shuichi tried to force his usual sheepish smile, but it didn't really work. He’s trying.

“Hm. Kind of? I came to check up on you, if that’s alright.” Ryoma bit off a small bit from the end of his candy again, and swallowed it. “Akamatsu and the others sent me,” he murmured quietly. “Although I was going to, whether they wanted me to or not.”

Shuichi felt himself tear up at the words, which was stupid. He felt bad about it, and desperately tried to blink back the salty liquid. He opened his mouth to speak, and it took himself a second to work up to it. “Um, no, I’m alright, Hoshi-kun, thank you!” His voice cracked, which made the admission completely unbelievable. Not that Hoshi-kun would believe him anyways. He can always see through it, but at least he knows when to drop it. Usually.

Ryoma squinted at Shuichi, and decided to be brash. He pulled out his phone, and texted the newly formed group chat, before speaking. “Look,” He typed out a quick, vague update, telling them not to worry. “We’re all worried about you. And I noticed that you seemed to be kind of out of it earlier.” Ryoma paused to look up and meet Shuichi’s eyes. “I just wanna make sure you’re okay, Saihara. I know dissociating ain’t fun.” 

Shuichi was grateful, then, for how low and quiet Hoshi-kun’s voice usually was, as a few upperclassmen walked by them in the hall. His eyes blurred with tears, and a hiccup forced its way out of his throat. His right hand immediately flew up to cover his mouth, as his knees bent, and he ended up crouching in the doorway. 

Ryoma stood there, silently stunned, for a moment, before reaching up. He quietly asked, “Can I touch you?” and after receiving a nod, he brought his hand up to rub Shuichi’s back and shoulder. His gaze ended up in Shuichi’s dorm room, which caused him to suck in a breath. No wonder Shuichi was so down, Ryoma thought. He had noticed, throughout the year, that Shuichi always got overwhelmed when surrounded by mess. 

He made a split second decision, and gently tilted Shuichi’s head up. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over Shuichi’s choked hiccups. “Do you want to come to my room? Get out of here for a little bit?” He spoke slowly, and noticed the way Shuichi’s whole body gently shook. Shuichi sniffled, wiped his nose on his sleeve, and nodded. He cringed after processing what he did. He stood on shaky and stiff legs, and let out a dead laugh.

“Can I change first..?” Hoshi-kun nodded, murmuring an “of course”, and waited outside while Shuichi did so. 

As Shuichi closed the door, he started crying once again, but lighter and less overwhelming. He stumbled his way over to the half-empty laundry basket by the bathroom door, and frowned in confusion. When did he leave a bag of chips in here..? At least they didn’t spill. He moves the bag onto the floor (where it will stay until the end of time), and pulls up a gargantuan forest green hoodie.

Shuichi smiles as he remembers Gokuhara-kun giving it to him. It was, surprisingly, too small for the entomologist, and Shuichi was cold, so. Hoodie. It’s his favorite, other than the galaxy print one he steals from Momota-kun from time to time. 

He shrugs off the button-up shirt he’s wearing, pausing to wrestle it off oh his head. He should’ve just. Unbuttoned it? Too bad. He left his white t-shirt on, and slipped the hoodie on over it. He smiled faintly as it reached down to his knees. Why is Gokuhara-kun so large? No matter. He reaches down and digs through the basket, pulling out various black articles of clothing, and holding them up in the direction of his fairy lights, settling with a black pair of basketball shorts that were once Harukawa-san’s. He might have accidentally stolen them.

As he slips off his pinstripe pants, he sighs with some form of relief, and leans his head against the wall, and breathes for a moment. Weird, but okay, he thinks to himself. I mean, those pants are kind of tight. He stands up straight, and proceeds to flounder around while trying to pull on the shorts, and nearly falls over a few times. 

He sighs when he finishes, and shucks off his shoes, before grabbing his phone. Shuichi makes his way towards the door, and notices that he’s smiling. What a difference it makes, when you finally accept help.

He still feels like shit, but it’s progress.

  
  


“So, dissociating, as far as I remember, is like,” Kaede takes a small pause to collect her thoughts. She also has her phone out, and googled some medical sites to help explain as well. “Like Hoshi-kun said, it’s like zoning out, but a lot worse…” She’s trying, okay? Maki nods along, and picks at her stocking. Kaito maintains his confused face.

“How so?” he asks, trying to be patient. Kaede frowns slightly, and thinks before speaking.

“Well, I believe the type of dissociation Saihara-kun has is Depersonalization/Derealization.” Kaito squawks when he realizes that there are multiple types. “It's like, sometimes, when it’s triggered, Saihara-kun might experience feelings of, um. Like, feeling like he’s not fully here? That’s the depersonalization. Feeling like you’re not fully here, or that you’re not fully in your body.” Kaede’s brows furrow at Kaito’s furrowed brow, but he looks less confused. Maki speaks up for a second.

“You mean like, kind of a floating feeling?” Kaede and Maki exchange head nods. “He’s mentioned that to me before, once.” She confirms, speaking of Shuichi. Kaito turns and looks at her.

“Really? He’s seriously never said anything about this stuff to me!” He looks offended, if not simply, upset, that Shuichi doesn’t trust him. Kaede gives him a sympathetic look.

“I just think, that like Hoshi-kun said, Saihara-kun doesn’t like being coddled. Now that I think about it, he never likes making a big deal out of _anything_. And um, no offense, Momota-kun, but you tend to… Uh. Make a big deal. Out of a majority of things, it seems.” Kaede rushes to correct herself after Kaito squawks. Again. “I MEAN! You’re just, very loud, sometimes, and I think that Saihara-kun just wants to keep his issues on the down-low, if that makes sense..?”

Kaito sighs, and runs his hand through his hair with a nod. His phone suddenly chimes, and he picks it up to check what it is. He sighs, and runs his unoccupied hand over his recently shaved goatee. “Hoshi says they’re going to his room, if we need them.” He puts his phone back on the table, and nods at Kirumi as she walks by, on her way to clean another empty table. “I get it, though. He really doesn’t like people doting on him or anything, huh?” The girls nod in agreement. “Can you continue, with the explanation, Akamatsu?” She nods, and he leans back in his chair.

“So, de _realization_ ,”, she begins, “Is similar to depersonalization, but more about reality. Kind of like, not necessarily feeling like things around you are real. Or maybe even just feeling distant from everything. Maybe a similar floating feeling, but not from yourself. If that makes any sense?” Kaede made a face that looked like she just confused herself, a bit.

She thinks that she’s doing a really shitty job at explaining this, but it’s the best she can do, at the moment. She suddenly remembers something, and goes to add on. “Oh! Depersonalization can also make people question their own existence… Saihara-kun told me that, once.” The vibe of the table went even more low, while all of them sat there, processing that.

“I can’t even imagine what that’s like,” Maki murmured, taking her foot off the table. She looked at Kaito right as he began to open his mouth to speak, but he shut it just as quick. “Were you about to say something, Momota?” She stared him down, like she usually did, until he replied.

“Oh, uh, no, it was nothing.” Kaede and Maki frowned at him, and the former reached out to rest her hand on his forearm. He flinched, just slightly.

“Momota. You can tell us. You know that, right?” The young man under fire shrunk a little, under her gaze, but folded after keeping eye contact for too long.

“Okay, geez, Harumaki! It’s honestly not a big deal!” Maki glares at him to continue. “I just, I was gonna say, that I think I do that, sometimes…” Kaede tilts her head.

“Do what?”

“All of… That.” He waves his hand towards Kaede’s phone, and frowns even deeper, looking away from the both of them, and out into the empty dining hall. He has some homework to catch up on.

“You mean dissociating? Momota, why did you never say anything?” Maki asks gently, her expression melting into something way too gentle.

“I don’t know,” Kaito whispers. “I thought it was, normal. Or, y’know, just me zoning out.” Kaede and Maki share another look, but don’t press him further. Kaede’s hand doesn’t leave his arm, and his other hand falls on top of hers.

  
  


The room was slow. That’s how they’d describe it. Shuichi was somewhat sprawled across Ryoma’s bed, while his friend carded his fingers through Shuichi’s hair. They had reached somewhat of a standstill in their mundane conversation, the light jazz music fading out as another song started up.

“Do you ever feel nauseous? When you’re floating?” Shuichi mumbles, staring at the ceiling. The spinning of the fan enraptured his visual attention, distracting him just a bit.

“Yeah, I do. It sucks, doesn’t it?” Hoshi-kun chuckles slightly, and Shuichi lets himself close his eyes, smiling faintly. He nods in response. “It’s a dreading kid of nausea, isn’t it? Similar to anxious nausea. For me, at least.

“Yes, exactly!” Shuichi exclaimed, wiggling his toes to the music. “I hate it!” he giggles in an exasperated way, and rolls his eyes. “But on a more serious note, I was kind of wanting to talk about it- uh, dissociating, if you’re okay with that?” Shuichi took his eyes away from the fan and looked into Ryoma’s, awkwardly bending his head and neck back.

Ryoma nodded, “Of course, Saihara. Where do you wanna start?” He waits patiently as Shuichi thinks for a moment. Shuichi’s eyes move back to the fan, but they don’t focus.

“I hate how all of my problems seem to loop back around to each other. When I first realized it, it was like being told that I was dying. Or at least. What I’d imagine it’d be like.” He sits silent after that, breathing steadily, waiting for his friend’s response.

“...What do you mean by that, Sai?” Ryoma asks, quietly. He thinks he might get the feeling, but in a different manner. He feels, rather than sees, Shuichi take in a long, slow breath.

“I just, it’s kind of like,” Shuichi unfolds his hands from where they rested on his abdomen, and gestures into the air. He’s not gesturing anything of meaning. “It’s a whole unending circle. It’s like. I’m depressed because of… whatever. I can never get anything done because of it, which just makes me anxious.” He chokes a little bit, as he starts to get emotional. Ryoma brushes the hair on his forehead back, then lets go of it, and lets it flop back onto his forehead. It causes Shuichi to smile, just the slightest bit.

“And then when my anxiety gets really bad, I start to dissociate. And when I dissociate, I end up being super distant, and I close everyone off, so they don’t see me like that…” He drops his hands back down onto his abdomen, and blinks heavily as stinging, overly salty tears spill. “And then-” Shuichi’s voice cracks, so he clears his throat. “And then I just feel more depressed. Because I feel lonely. And it starts over again. And when I finally realized that, a few months ago, it felt like the world collapsed around me. Because, I know, that if none of my problems - not even one - gets better, this will just, be my life.” He gestures down at himself, like there was something shameful about himself. “And one day, my life is going to end, and I won’t be able to say that I lived it like I wanted to.”

Ryoma felt himself tearing up as well. He felt the exact same way, albeit with a different cycle. That’s… Exactly how he felt, after… Everything. He brushed his friend’s bangs back once more, and held them there. Shuichi looked up at him, with one eye closed slightly more than the other, cringing as his tears burned his eyes. Ryoma nodded at him, smile wobbly.

“I get that. I definitely get that.” he chuckles as he says this. A single tear falls from his left eye, and he lets it roll, and settle on his chin, not quite ready to fall.

Shuichi sighs, and wipes at his eyes. “God,” he murmurs, “I wish I could still see my therapist…” He laughs, dryly, and keeps his hands over his eyes. He pushes in, just a little, and hums at the pressure. 

“Why can’t you?” Ryoma asks. He thinks to himself, a therapist would be nice. Maybe he could get an official diagnosis on… everything.

“My parents stopped paying for it. Because I didn’t tell them that they were paying for a therapist. Hehe, I just asked if I could have an allowance. Used it all to pay for therapy, and then they found out, and stopped. Apparently important people can’t have not-okay kids.” His tone of voice didn’t match his words at all, as if he thought it was a funny thing. He didn’t, it’s just easier to deal with that way. Ryoma huffs out a breath, and it brushes Shuichi’s forehead with a tickle. 

“Doesn’t the school have an insurance program? You could try paying for it that way.” Ryoma offered. He remembered getting a pamphlet at the beginning of the year, which spoke about a free insurance program for Ultimate Students within the school. Shuichi nodded, and removed his hands from his eyes.

“I’ve thought about that,” he says, almost too quiet for Ryoma to hear. “But Akamatsu-san and Toujo-san are on the representative board for it that processes applications. I just. Don’t want them to know, y’know?” Ryoma nods, and thinks back to the _look_ Kirumi gave him earlier. He’s going to have a fun conversation sometime this week. “I don’t mean to be harsh, but Akamatsu-san sometimes has a hard time _not_ telling people things. She just talks so fast, and switches subjects so fast that things just… Come out.”

“Maybe you could talk to Toujo about it, and have her keep it on the down-low?” he releases Shuichi’s bangs, finally, and goes back to finger combing his hair.

“Maybe. I just, don’t want the awkward check-ins, y’know? That’s what my _therapist_ is for,” he huffs out a small laugh, which makes Ryoma think that Shuichi is just being ridiculous, and that he knows this. He gives Shuichi a look, and the other sighs. “I know, I’m being ridiculous,” _He knew it._ “I just, could you maybe, come with me? I know that you have a lot of restrictions, but maybe we could find a way?”

Ryoma frowns. He certainly does have a shit ton of restrictions. “Do you mean go to file an application with you, or go to therapy with you..?” A smile bleeds its way across Shuichi’s face.

“Both?”

A sigh.

“I don’t see why not.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please let me know what you think, as this is the first fic I've finished in at least a year and a half <:)
> 
> Comments would be nice, even if its just a few exclamation points
> 
> If you spot any errors, please let me know!
> 
> also if you thought to yourself at all "damn, is he okay?" in reference to any of the characters, or maybe even me, the answer is no, sorry


End file.
